


These are the wages of love

by c00kie



Series: cradle of love [3]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c00kie/pseuds/c00kie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leslie continues to have needs. (Set in the Love Cuts a Million Ways verse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	These are the wages of love

**Author's Note:**

> The legal age of consent in DC is 16 (and spoilers: is discussed.) but I put the warning as just in case you kind of scenario. Leslie is 17, almost 18.

Leslie falls back on the bed, body still vibrating. Slowly, it calms, allowing her to uncurl her toes and open her eyes. She sees him, sitting between her legs, dick hard in his hand. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says, getting off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. 

She glares at the closed door, blocking her view of what is surely a beautiful sight. It’s one thing that he wants to keep cock blocking himself but the least he can do is let her watch while he finishes himself off. 

He could even do it on her. She believes it’s what they call the ‘money shot.’ 

She listens though, as she slips her panties on and readjusts her bra. 

At least he has no problem giving her orgasms now. Leslie counts that as a positive step forward. 

But she's not sure why she's still here. 

“I think I’m going to go.” 

The bathroom door opens and he steps out, wearing a pair of sweatpants that don’t hide his erection. She finds herself momentarily distracted by it, thinking that she might like to get on her knees and finish him off. 

He’s never said no to a blow job. 

But then he says her name again and she lifts her eyes, taking in his hard stomach and chest before she meets his eyes. “Sorry?”

“I asked why you’re leaving.” 

Because you won’t fuck me seems like a really petty answer, as if the only reason she’s with him is for sex. It makes her no better than the guys at school, and it’s also the furthest thing from the truth. 

He’s Ben. He’s kind and smart and if she’s allowed to fantasize, the future first gentleman. 

Not that marriage is even on the table yet. How can it be, when they haven’t even fucked yet. Also she needs to graduate high school and go to college, but who cares about that?

“There’s an all ages club Ann wants to go to tonight.” It at least has the benefit of being true. 

He comes toward her, smiling slightly as he takes her face in his hand and slowly brushes his lips across hers. 

“Have fun. Come by after.” 

"I don't want to wake you up."

"Trust me,it won't be a problem," Ben says, kissing her again. 

She leaves after twenty minutes, legs still shaking. 

Two hours later, she’s at the club, dancing to some song she can’t make out but has an infectious beat. 

She should be enjoying herself, but there’s a guy who keeps trying to dance too close behind her no matter where she goes, and in the corner there’s a couple inches away from making out, looking at each other like they’re the only two people in the room,possibly the world. 

It reminds her of how Ben looks at her. And suddenly, Leslie doesn’t care about sex. She just wants to be with him. 

“I want to go.” 

Ann’s dancing with a guy who has to be out of college. 

Ann looks at Leslie for a moment, and Leslie must have I miss my boyfriend written on her face because she nods and yells, “Okay!” over the music. 

They’re on the train when Ann says, “I got that guy’s phone number.” 

“Really? What’s his name?” 

“Howard.” 

Howard seemed like a creep but Leslie knows better than to say that. Instead, she says, “Be careful. They’re not all as noble as Ben.” 

Ann laughs. “He seemed nice. A bit of a doof though.” 

“Doof is your type.” 

“Yeah,” Ann agrees, just as the train stops and more people get on. "I just want what you and Ben have."

"You want to watch your boyfriend go to swanky parties with beautiful women on his arm and pace your room until he comes home?" 

"Okay, maybe not." 

The train stops again and this time they get off, heading toward the stairs leading up to the street above. "I just don't know what to think. Is it me? Is he just not attracted to me?" 

"That can't be it. It's probably just because you're not eighteen yet."

Leslie stops to ponder Ann's statement. "Oh."

"Yeah. I mean you guys do other stuff right? So you know he's into you." 

Ann really was a wise queen wasp. "Yeah," she says when Leslie tells her as much, "Let's go." 

As Leslie makes her way down the hall to her apartment she considers taking a shower before going to Ben’s, but her impatience beats her. 

He answers the door in his pajamas, blurry eyed, hair flat on one side. “You were sleeping."

"No, I wasn't," he denies, voice scratchy before he coughs. "I was just resting my eyes."

"Okay, well I'm safe and home so you can go back to resting your eyes."

Ben stares back at her, and she’s brought back to last New Year's eve when she stood in this same hallway, knowing before he took that final step that he was going to kiss her. 

"Is your mom home?" 

"No, but it's okay-"

"Come inside," he says, grabbing her wrists and pulling her in before she can protest. She wouldn't mean it even if she did though. Falling asleep next to Ben in his king sized bed sounds a lot better than being alone in her queen. 

She showers, using his soap to clean the dance sweat off her, then slips the t shirt he gave her before going to join Ben in his bed. He's already asleep though, snoring softly into his pillow. She climbs in next to him and forms herself to his back, kissing his shoulder goodnight. It might feel like an eternity, but if Ben wants to wait until her birthday, she can too. 

When she wakes, Ben's side of bed is cold. She makes her way to the kitchen, the smell of blueberry pancakes filling the air. 

"Good morning," he says, flipping the pan expertly. "Did you sleep well?"

She slept like a baby, or rather better than a baby. The term slept like a baby was rather odd, now that she thought about it, given that babies are notorious non sleepers. "I did. You?"

"I slept pretty good, considering you take up the whole bed."

"I did not."

"You did." Ben smiles. "You know you're supposed to sleep vertically on beds and not horizontally, right?"

Leslie sticks her tongue out at him and he grins again, handing her a plate. "Syrup is on the bar." 

He turns around to make his, and she watches his back, hidden only by a plain white t-shirt. Her boyfriend is deliriously sexy, even though he's singing a song about making pancakes. 

"So," he says, joining her at the bar, "Are we going to talk about whatever was bothering you yesterday?"

"Nothing was bothering me," Leslie counters, only to see Ben's expression and sighs. "Fine. But we should eat first."

"Okay," Ben agrees. 

The pancakes are great, but Leslie can't help but fear the impending conversation. What is she supposed to say? That she loves him and wishes he would just do her? 

It's not a bad idea. 

But then the plates are empty and all the extras are gone and Ben's refilled his coffee cup two more times which means he's fully awake, and ready to talk. 

Leslie remains on her stool, still trying to come up with the right words.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," Ben says, taking her hands into his. 

"Okay." She says nothing else though, unable to focus when his thumb is rubbing circles into her skin. Ben's touch is everything, somehow sensual and calming all at once. 

But it's also distracting. 

"Okay," Leslie says again, because she has to tell him eventually. "I understand why you don't want to have sex yet and if you want to wait until I'm eighteen I respect that-"

"Okay," he says, although it doesn't sound like he understands at all. 

"It's just-" She takes a deep breath- "You know how after we do stuff and you go into your bathroom to finish up? Well I think you should stick around and you know, let me watch?"

"You want to watch?" 

"Yes," she repeats herself, feeling more confident. "I want to watch."

"So," Ben says, running his finger up her armt, "You want to watch me stroke my cock after I make you come?"

"Uh huh." 

"And tell me, where should I come? In my hand? Or on your body? Or-" he pauses, his eyes staring at her lips, "here?" Ben asks, pushing his thumb past her lips. He tastes like syrup and butter and skin and she can't get enough of it. 

"Yes," she says, wrapping her legs around his waist 

"I can do that," he says, hands moving up her thighs now. 

She glances down, sees him half hard in his pajama pants and reaches for it, curling her fingers around his shaft. 

"Yes," he hisses, and his mouth crashes into hers, kissing her like he's starving. But then something in the air shifts and he pulls her off the chair, carrying her back toward the bedroom. Hre back hits the wall first thought, his lips attacking her neck. 

And then his phone rings. 

"Fuck," he says, and she lowers her legs so he can put her down. He answers his phone with a, "Yeah, Jenn?" 

Leslie watches, glued to the wall still as Ben paces the room, clawing at his own hair. She can hear his boss's' voice through the speaker, yelling. 

She makes out the word sex and dread fills her body like lead. 

He hangs up, looking at her but she can't make out his expression. "There's an emergency at work. I have to go in."

"Okay."  If only her heart would calm down. 

"It's going to take all day. It's an hall hands on deck situation, i might not be back until late tonight," he says, wrapping his arms around her.

"Ben, it's fine. Go." 

She watches him get dressed, putting on his suit and tie like they're a form of armor. Gone is singing pancake making Ben who said sexy things that made her feel dizzy. Now there's genius campaign strategist Ben. 

God help her if she doesn't want to just grab his tie and- 

"I'll call you," he promises, "Stay here as long as you'd like." His lips brush across hers and he's gone. 

Leslie falls back on his bed and sighs. 

She spends the next couple hours cleaning Ben's apartment. She washes the dishes, and while they're drying, wipes off the counters and changes the sheets on his bed, throwing the old ones into the washer.  She even sweeps the floors and dusts off the coffee table. 

Eventually she runs out of things to do and goes home. 

There, she reads a book off her summer reading list, plays Angry Birds on her phone, texts with Ann about Ben, using code names of course. 

She gives in and searches for her vibrator, the one she bought before Ben moved in next door and found herself using almost nightly until she realized that if she could hear him, it almost certainly meant he could hear her. 

But he's not home and she can't sit on his face, so she's left with no choice. 

It's almost embarrassing how fast she comes. All she has to do is press the vibrator against her clit and think about Ben and she's  _ there _ . 

But then, after her situation is taken care of, she remembers why Ben left and fear takes a hold of her again. 

What if someone saw them? What if there are pictures? Or video? Is she going to have to go on Dateline to explain her side of the story? This is not how she wanted to meet Diane Sawyer. 

Ben hasn't called yet though. So maybe that was a good thing. No news is good news, as they say. 

When Marlene comes home she's glowing, humming to herself as she puts away her belongings and asks Leslie how she is. Leslie smiles, despite being both jealous and disgusted, because she knows why her mom is that happy, and she says she's great. 

"It's a shame about Patterson."

"Oh?" Leslie asks, unsure of who her mom means. 

"Oh it's all over the news. I'm surprised you haven't heard already, given how much time you watch C SPAN." 

"I've been watching Ken Burns documentaries instead," Leslie says, because it's the truth. "So what did Patterson do?" 

"He's been having an affair with an intern half his age. I imagine Ben is trying to do damage control, but I don't know how he's going to spin this, or even if he should. Let's face it, Patterson is a…" 

As Marlene carries on about Patterson and his many negative qualities, Leslie lets out a sigh of relief. They were found out. There's not going to be an expose on 60 Minutes. She won't have her picture on the tabloids. 

Patterson is just a senator who can't keep it in his pants and Ben is the man who got him elected into office. 

"Anyway, what would you like for dinner tonight, sweetie? And don't say waffles. I need something other than breakfast food." 

Leslie shakes her head, not truly understanding the words coming from her mother's mouth. "Mexican?" 

"Perfect." 

But not even a plate of nachos can make the sinking feeling in Leslie's stomach go away. It should be a relief that it was Senator Patterson who was caught having the affair and not Ben, but it doesn't seem to matter. It could have easily been Ben. It still could be. 

And knowing Ben, he's probably come to the same conclusion she has. 

"Are you sure you're okay? You're hardly eating." 

"Yeah, it's just an allergy headache."

"Oh. Well have you taken a Claritin yet? I have some in my purse."

"I'm fine. I think I might just go to bed early." 

"Okay," Marlene sits back, crossing her arms over her chest, "Now I know something's wrong. Out with it."

"Mom-"

"It's a boy, isn't it. Please tell me it's not Mark again." 

Leslie laughs. She hasn't thought about Mark in almost a year. "No, mom. It's not Mark."

"But it is a boy." 

Leslie looks at her plate, hoping the olives will have the answers she's looking for. But they're silent and she hates olives anyway. "Yeah. I like him, a lot, but I think it's over." 

Marlene takes her hand, squeezing it in hers. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

"Thanks, mom."

"Besides, this guy can't be that great, if he's willing to let you go." 

Leslie wishes that were true. 

It's far past midnight when she gets a text from Ben asking if she's awake and that he's home if she is. She doesn't bother changing out of her pajamas before sneaking out, double checking to make sure her mom is fully asleep before she goes. 

Ben's still in his suit, his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up; a beer in his hand. "Hey." 

"Hey. I heard about Patterson." 

Ben shrugs. "There will be legal repercussions of course, but honestly it's not really my problem. He has people. But yeah, the media- they want to know if I knew-" He stops, looking at her like he wants her to put the pieces together. 

"Oh. Right." There's something she's supposed to say now, but she's not sure what that is. They'll start pecking into Ben's life now like vultures. 

It's over. She knew it was coming, but she didn't expect it to hurt this much. 

"The legal age in DC is sixteen."

"Huh?"

"The legal age of consent in DC is sixteen," Ben repeats. "That's what I told them today. That's what the lawyers told them today. So he won't be charged with statutory rape. So I- I know what you're thinking."

She's 17. Maybe he wouldn't be arrested, but he could still lose his job, his reputation."I don't want you to get in trouble."

He puts his beer down on the counter, turning to her, eyes dark and voice harsh. "It's too late," he says, and before she can wonder what he means by that, he adds, "Do you know how in love with you I am? Do you?" 

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. She wipes the tears of her cheeks and nods. "I love you too." 

She only has to wait two seconds before Ben closes the gap between them, taking her face into his hands and kissing her so harder than ever. She clings to him as he lifts her up, saying something about how she'll need to be quiet as he carries her into his room. And as he divests them of their clothing, all of their clothing, grabbing a condom out of his night stand, Leslie knows this isn't the end for them. 

This is the beginning. 


End file.
